In the darkened forest
by Griddlebone
Summary: Somewhere among the trees, the stories said, lurked a bloodthirsty monster... (Pre-canon)


Author's note: A little something spooky for Halloween. Originally written for the "ghosts" challenge at the Dreamwidth community, fandomweekly.

-x-

Wind howled down from the distant mountains, setting the girl to shivering and the flame in her small lantern to dancing. Dark shapes loomed on either side of the road; a forest of trees by day and ghosts by night.

Somewhere among those trees, the stories said, lurked a bloodthirsty monster. It bided its time, waiting for unsuspecting and foolish travelers to pass by after dark, before draining them dry. They had certainly found enough desiccated bodies near the road through the forest for the stories to be believable.

And yet here she was, well after sunset, dispatched on an urgent mission to the neighboring village. Ten years old, with only her lantern for company.

She walked faster, glancing nervously up to where the tree branches curved into a roof overhead.

There: two eyes in the dark, shining back at her.

Fear swept through her even as she tried to explain away the sight. Any animal's eyes might glow like that, when confronted by fire in the middle of the night. It didn't have to be a ghost, or a youkai.

It didn't have to be, but it was.

The signs were all there: not a sound from other wildlife, even insects. The eerie, oppressive sensation in the air. The faint whiff of a charnel scent.

A rustle of leaves, and then it was in the air. No innocent flying squirrel, this creature was an unholy mix of plump, furry body, large furless wings, and frightfully reflective eyes. Sango had only a moment to assess it, to determine her best course of action. With its strange combination of features, part flying squirrel and part bat, it had to be nobusuma. A bat that had lived so long, it had become a youkai.

It had to be that. She knew of nothing else it could be. All of her training said that it must be nobusuma. Yet, if she had guessed wrong…

Too late for second guesses. Her moment was over, for the creature had been assessing its prey, as well. And she was the prey.

It swooped toward her face, screaming, "Gaa! Gaa!"

The nobusuma was quick, but she was quicker. In the crucial moment, fear dissipated and training took over. She dropped the lantern and fell back, bringing her arms up not just to fend off the blood-sucking monster, but to trigger the spring-loaded blade hidden along her forearm.

Her heart soared as the blade struck home and the bat—the youkai—fell in pieces to the ground. This nobusuma would not live long enough to become something even worse.

She couldn't help the momentary feeling of elation: she'd done it! She had killed her first youkai, by herself. Father would be so proud when she told him.

Calming herself, remembering her training, she bent to see if any of the creature's parts might be worth salvaging. Perhaps the leathery wings…

Instinct warned her just before it was too late; hairs rising on the back of her neck, an uncanny scent in her nostrils. She threw herself to the side, rolled to come up on her feet with her once-hidden blade between her and the second nobusuma. Not just one hundred-year-bat, feeding on fire and travelers' blood, but two. No wonder the locals had been forced to seek out professional youkai exterminators.

"Gaa! Gaa!"

Sango stared it down, for a moment uncertain how to deal with the creature now that she had lost the element of surprise.

She shook off the uncertainty as swiftly as it overtook her. If she delayed, she might get hurt or the youkai might get away. And then what would Father say?

She was _not_ going to disappoint him.

Thinking fast, she scooped up the lantern and hurled it at the nobusuma. It ducked nimbly out of the way, not the least bit at risk of being struck by the hastily thrown projectile, but the distraction gave her time to ready another weapon. Like all the slayers of her village, she carried a length of chain that could be used as a weapon or in place of a rope. Now, set to spinning in her hand, it served as a convenient deterrent to keep the nobusuma from getting too close.

She wasn't particularly good with the chain, not the way she was with her sword and bone boomerang, but she had been limited to weapons she could easily hide. If she had seemed to be anything other than a frightened child traveling alone, the nobusuma might not have emerged at all, and she would have been no help to the local villagers.

For its part, the nobusuma eyed her warily. It seemed almost intelligent, as if it were weighing its options: attack the human, attempt to eat the fire that still flickered from the fallen lantern, or flee into the night.

Sango seized her chance. The youkai was small, but nimble as a bat in the air and as a squirrel on the ground. She had no room for error.

Long hours of practice paid off as the chain caught and held. It took almost no effort to dash the youkai to the ground, stunning it. Easier still to dispatch it after that.

And then she stood alone on the forest path, shaking. It was over, it was done, she had emerged victorious. The local villagers need no longer live in fear of the monsters that haunted their forest. One day she would take on larger, fiercer, more powerful youkai than this. Years from now, when she had grown into adulthood and finished training at her craft.

Killing the nobusuma was small, compared to the tales the other slayers brought home, but it was a start.

Father would be proud, she knew.

Wind still howled down from the mountains, pushing clouds across the moon. Branches still loomed over the road. Somewhere in the distance, some creature gave an unearthly, mournful cry. And Sango walked back to the village with a spring in her step.


End file.
